


you plant your fields when the spring is tender

by skatzaa



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Mentions of Vomitting, Off-screen Character Death, Plants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:14:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25897267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skatzaa/pseuds/skatzaa
Summary: Elise retches when they tell her.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character, Woman Who Loves Growing Plants & Her Plants, Woman Who Loves Growing Plants/Boyfriend Who Destroys Plants
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9
Collections: Original Works Opportunity 2020





	you plant your fields when the spring is tender

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DesertVixen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesertVixen/gifts).



> Based loosely on [this AITA-style Reddit post](https://twitter.com/redditships/status/1267555908000845824). 
> 
> Title from You Plant Your Fields by New Grass Revival, which I have never listened to, but popped up when I googled "songs about plants."
> 
> ETA: 10/20/2020 because I finally found the workskin I'd been looking for to better format the newspaper article at the beginning.

# THE GAZETTE

### VOL. MCCLXII NO. 74,758 Wednesday, March 8

#### LOCAL MAN FOUND DEAD IN POND

Authorities have reported the death of David Lewis, 27. Lewis, a local, was found dead at the edge of Winscott Pond late Tuesday night. The preliminary coroner’s report states that water was found in Lewis’ lungs. The police have not yet ruled the death murder or suicide.

Police reportedly found a large deposit of decaying plant matter in the pond near Lewis’ body. LCPD Spokesperson Sonia Martin gave no comment when asked the relevance. Lewis is the first suspicious death in the county this year. READ MORE **A12** .

* * *

Elise retches when they tell her.

“Sorry,” she says, once she’s sat up a bit and wiped her hand across her mouth. Thank god for her mom’s insistence on keeping a trash can under the coffee table.

Her sister reappears in the doorway that leads to the kitchen and steps into the room, handing Elise a glass of water and glaring at the two bulky men, one seated awkwardly on the loveseat’s overstuffed cushion, the other perched on the edge of their dad’s old recliner. Hazel joins her again on the couch and watches Elise until she drinks some of the water.

“No, we apologize, Ms. Pauley,” Detective Howard, the one on the loveseat, says. His voice is very soft for how large he is. He leans forward on his elbows, both hands holding his little notebook that’s flipped open. He glances down at the page, then back up at her. “It must come as quite a shock.”

“Yes,” Elise says honestly, because no matter what else it is, it _is_ a shock. “I haven’t seen David in… a week, at least.”

“Why is that?” asks the other detective; Kennedy, she thinks he introduced himself as. His voice is also soft. They look so out of place in the soft gray living room of her parents’ farmhouse, and it’s making her head hurt a little. 

Hazel reaches out and takes Elise’s free hand. She clings to it.

“Um. He–” her voice cracks, and she clears her throat. “A few weeks ago, we had an argument, and he destroyed my greenhouse.”

Detectives Howard and Kennedy exchange a look.

“How did he destroy it?” Detective Kennedy asks. He shifts a little in the recliner, trying to resituate without tipping backward.

“I don’t know,” she says. Also true; on that horrible, heartbreaking morning, and all the days that came after, she never asked him what he did, and David never offered. “But when I woke up the next morning, all my plants were gone.”

“What were you arguing about?” Detective Howard, this time, pen poised now over his notebook.

“Money,” Elise tells him. “Money’d been tight, and I was tired. I wanted to go to bed, talk about it in the morning, but David…”

Hadn’t wanted to. Had ignored the tea she gave him and instead called after her, voice getting louder and uglier each time. 

“But you haven’t seen him in a week?” Kennedy asks. She nods.

“I encouraged her to come stay with our parents for a while,” Hazel cuts in, hand tightening on Elise’s for a heartbeat. “I didn’t think it was a good idea for Elise to be there, after what happened.”

Howard nods, slowly, as though he’s turning the idea over in his mind. He says, “I’m sorry to ask this, but we need to for the sake of ruling you out Where were you, last night? Both of you.”

Hazel squeezes even tighter.

“We,” Elise starts, and pauses. Swallows. “We went to Orchid Greenhouse with our parents. They wanted me to pick out a few plants, so I could start over.”

But nothing could replace her great-grandmother’s ivy. She’d spent hours there with her family encouraging her, and had come home with nothing. Just hadn’t felt right.

“If we speak to staff there, will they be able to confirm?”

“Yeah,” Hazel says, before Elise has to drag the words out again. “We know the owner pretty well, and he spent a long time helping us.”

“And after that?”

“We came home. Had dinner,” Elise says. “My parents have had security cameras on the property since someone broke in when we were kids. I can get you the recording.”

“That would be very helpful,” Howard says, and stands. His partner follows a moment later. “Thank you for your time today, Ms. Pauley. We are sorry for your loss.”

Hazel stands to see them out, and Elise lets her. 

No matter what else she’s feeling—and there’s a lot of it, but little she can decipher right now, sitting on the same couch her parents have had since she was young, surrounded by everything familiar and dear—she’s sorry too.

The house is in both their names, and so later—much later, after the police clear the house, declare David’s death accidental, and close the investigation—she goes home.

It doesn’t feel much like home, now. Hazel and her parents did their best to right things after the police had finished their searches, but she still finds more out of place than not: pillows rumpled, hers on his side of the bed and vice versa; the books out of order on the beautiful builtin shelves that sold them on the house in the first place; even the coffee mugs are out of order and in the wrong cabinet. David’s sister has already come to pick up his things that Elise doesn’t want around, and it feels half-full at best.

She avoids the back room and feels as though she is moving through her own empty, forlorn house as a ghost.

Finally, she can no longer avoid it.

There are still books in the back room, including the fantasy novel she’d been so excited to start reading before... _everything_ happened. And she should close the blinds, at least, if they haven’t been already; no point in driving up the electric bill letting in sunlight for plants that no longer exist.

Elise makes herself tea and takes a fortifying sip, staring down the closed door to the greenhouse room like it’s going to stop her from entering. It doesn’t, of course.

When she swings the door open and steps into the room, she stops. Her mug nearly slips from her numb fingers. Elise grasps it more firmly with both hands and steps forward. And again, coming closer and closer to the corner of the room where her rocking chair and bookcase sit.

Finally, she halts, trembling. Then she reaches out a hand and touches the bright cascade of green.

There, in its place of pride as always, healthy and exactly the same as she remembers it, sits her great-grandmother’s ivy.

Elise sobs, and it’s as cathartic as it is painful.


End file.
